Olive
by Shrek is life 101
Summary: Aged 24, Draco and Hermione are now sharing an apartment as roommates. When Hermione decides to adopt a little boy, Draco is horrified. But little does he know, it's going to be the best thing that's ever happened to him!
1. Chapter 1 - Olives

**Chapter 1 – Olives**

Draco sat down on the couch, reading peacefully. Hermione would be home soon, and then he wouldn't have time to read. She would go off at him for all the housework he forgot to do. He thought back carefully. As she left the house that morning, she had given him a million things to do, most of which he had forgotten before he could find a pen and paper.

Looking around the house, he mentally checked off all the chores he could think of.

Washing the dishes

Changing a lightbulb

Folding the washing

Organising the bookshelf

That last one had taken him at least 3 hours. Hermione had so many books written by the Bathilda Bagshot and all of them had to be in alphabetical order!

Still, he could not think of anything left to do. So he sat there reading, anticipating her wrath when she got home.

Half an hour later, Draco heard the sound of the keys jingling in the lock. He slid his bookmark in, closed the book and went to the door, ready to apologise for what he hadn't done. But to his surprise, Hermione was not alone.

With her, was a small sandy-blond haired boy who couldn't have been older than 5. Draco furrowed his brows, speechless. He had never seen this child before. He stepped to the side, letting them enter. The boy held a little red car in one hand and was attached to Hermione with the other. He peered up at Draco with a curious expression.

"Draco, meet Oliver. Oliver, this is Draco, the one I've been telling you about," Hermione smiled. Draco gaped. Was he meant to know this kid?

"Draco… that's a funny name…" said Oliver, breaking into a little smile.

"Well your name sounds like olives!" Draco replied rudely, immediately regretting his words. Why was he feeling so threatened by a little kid?

"Hey!" Hermione glared at the older boy. "Draco, you remember me mentioning Oliver, don't you?"

"Oh! Yes! Of course! How could I ever forget? It was that time when you…" he replied sarcastically, leaving his sentence unfinished so she could remind him.

"That's wonderful, now let me show Oliver to his bedroom." She led the boy away. He glanced back at Draco, who shrugged and closed the door.

A short while later, Draco was cooking dinner when Hermione entered the kitchen, looking positively exhausted.

"You look like hell," Draco commented.

"You can't use words like that anymore," she told him firmly. "There's a child in the house."

"Yes. I know. But may I ask, _why_ there is a child here?" he turned away from the stove to face her, arms folded.

"What do you mean '_why_'?" Hermione looked up at him from the newspaper on the table.

"Well for starters, what if I wanted to bring someone home one night? I don't think a sock on the doorknob would be very effective anymore?" Draco sat down across from her, leaning back in his chair, waiting for an answer.

"I thought you would have figured something out! Especially since you knew about this 2 months ago!" she quipped.

"2 months? I only found out that there'll be a kid here this afternoon!" he leaned forward. "Besides, how long is he gonna be here for?"

"Draco. He's going to be here until he moves out. I adopted him. And I distinctly remember telling you about considering this decision 2 months ago. I knew you'd forget. That's why I took a recording of me telling you." She pulled out her phone and began searching for the said recording.

"No, no! Stop! You don't have to find the recording! I believe you!" Draco replied quickly. He didn't want to have to wait for 10 minutes while she got distracted on her phone.

"Good."

"But who is he? Why did you do this?" Draco got up to stir the food again.

"His mother was killed in the war," Hermione said quietly. Draco sat back down.

"But that was 2 years ago! Where's he been all this time? Is he a wizard? Does he know he's a wizard?" Draco was bursting with questions.

"He's been in an orphanage. I adopted him because I always wanted to adopt a child who was hurt by the war. I wanted to make someone feel good, and now I've found that little someone, and I have enough money to care for him. To answer your question. Yes, he is a wizard, but no, he doesn't know," Hermione explained.

"Why? Didn't his mother tell him? What about his father?" Draco continued.

"His father was a muggle and his mother was a half-blood. He left her when he found out she was pregnant. She graduated from Ilvermony a year before he was born, but left the wizarding world to live like a muggle. She didn't want him to be mixed up in all the problems with Voldermort. But I guess the death eaters found her… and well…" Hermione told Draco what the people at the adoption centre had told her.

"That's terrible…" Draco commented, leaving the table again to finish cooking.

"Well, it's only going to get better for him from here!" Hermione snapped back into her usual optimistic self.


	2. Chapter 2 - Sticks

Chapter 2 – Sticks

Hermione was up at 7 in the morning, getting ready to go to work. Draco, however was contently sleeping under the warmth of his blanket. That was one of the only things he could say he truly enjoyed about being fired. Why had he been fired from his job? Simply because he could not seem to get to work on time. At least now he had a week to sleep in before having to prepare for a job interview.

However, Hermione did not see it that way. Knocking loudly on Draco's door, she entered his room, waking him.

"What do you want?" he snapped.

"Oliver was scared of being alone last night, so I let him sleep in my bed. He just woke up and he's a little sleepy, so I'm going to bring him here. Just let him share your bed," she instructed.

Draco opened his mouth to protest! This was his bedroom! His private space to do what he wanted! But he grumbled and agreed.

A moment later, Hermione shuffled back into his room, struggling to carry the sleeping boy in her arms. She paused at the doorway, catching her breath.

"Draco! Hurry up and help me! He's too heavy!" she cried, trying not to wake the boy who had fallen asleep again.

The 24 year old rushed out of his sheets and gently removed the little boy from Hermione's vice-like grip. He placed him down on the bed and waved the girl off to work.

But now he was awake, and he couldn't go back to sleep.

"Miss Hermione?" Draco heard a soft, timid voice calling out. For a moment he was terrified that there was some sort of poltergeist in the room, but then he remembered – Oliver. Putting down his book, he went back into his bedroom to check on the child.

"Hey," he smiled at Oliver, who was rubbing his eyes. His brown hair was sticking up and he was slouching, obviously still sleepy.

"Where's Miss Hermione, Mr Draco?" the little boy asked.

"She's at work Olive. And stop calling me Mr Draco, I'm just going to be Draco to you," he replied.

"Sorry Mr Dr- I mean Draco," the boy smiled.

"Come on, let's find your toothbrush. I'll go make you something to eat."

Draco pulled out a toothbrush from a cupboard in the bathroom and ripped open the packaging. Last month he had been wondering why there was a brand new, little red toothbrush in there with pictures of animated characters on it. Well at least one question had been answered.

Passing the toothbrush to Oliver, he made to leave for the kitchen.

"Draco, I can't reach the sink," called out the little voice. Spinning on his heel, Draco returned to the bathroom with a chair. With one hand holding the toothbrush in his mouth, Oliver could not climb up to stand on the chair.

Draco sighed. So, this was what it was like to be a parent. He lifted the child onto the chair and waited for him to finish. You know, to make sure he brushed his teeth properly. Then, lifting him back down, again went back to the kitchen.

About halfway down the hallway, he was overtaken by a small, fast figure, zooming past him.

"C'mon Draco! I'm _starving_!" he shouted. This overflow of energy was absolutely mind-blowing to Draco, who preferred to go slowly and take his time with everything. Picking up his pace, he walked into the kitchen.

An unwelcome smell of something burning greeted his nose. The toast! Rushing to the toaster, he pulled out the charred pieces of bread. Annoyed, he took his wand out of his pocket and was about to mutter a spell to scrape off the burnt bits when he felt a curious pair of eyes watching him intently. Oliver didn't know he was a sorcerer!

Stuffing the stick back into his pocket, Draco grabbed a knife and began the task of manually scraping the bread.

"Draco, what was that stick?" asked the boy.

"It was nothing Olive," Draco replied, hoping he wouldn't pursue it any further.

"But I like sticks! I like to make houses from them! Can I show you? Please Draco?" he begged.

"Okay, if you want."

Oliver looked around, presumably for a stick. "Draco can I have your stick?" He reached out to put his hand into Draco's pocket, but he Draco jumped back.

"Uhh… not that stick… let's go out and find you one." He made a quick save.

"But why?" Oliver pouted.

"Sorry Olive, I really like my stick. Maybe we can find one that you really like too!" The little boy slipped his hand into the palm of Draco's and led him eagerly towards the door.

Outside, Oliver was having a ball. He picked up sticks of all shapes and sizes and carried them over to Draco, dropping most of them on the way. Sitting beside his counterpart, he started sorting through the remaining pile and threw away sticks that were too 'short' or 'bendy' or 'yucky'. Finally, he found one that seemed to fit the correct definition of a nice stick and he snapped it.

He continued snapping it until the pieces were all about as long as his fingers. From here, he put them all on the floor and made the shape of a little house.

"Look Draco! I made a house!" he beamed. Draco smiled hesitantly. It barely resembled a building. He was only grateful the boy hadn't done it to his wand.

Leading him back inside where it was warm, Draco set about making toast again, and the two boys enjoyed a slightly burnt, but otherwise okay breakfast.


	3. Chapter 3 - Bedtime Stories

Chapter 3 – Bedtime Stories

Hermione came home just after 5 that day, expecting to find the house a mess and Draco screaming in frustration. Instead what she found was something quite nice.

The place was indeed a terrible mess. There was milk spilt on the kitchen floor and crumbs all over the table. Muddy footprints of two distinctly different sizes were trailing all around the apartment. Some leave littered the floor from time to time and there was a pile of sticks just outside the front door.

Walking into the living area, she reached to turn off the television. It had been blaring extremely loudly. A kids movie was playing. Turning to the couch, she saw Draco fast asleep, his inside shoes kicked off on the carpet and feet up on the cushions. Leaning on him was little Oliver, snoring softly. Her heart warmed to see both of them so content.

She remembered when she first agreed to move in with Draco. Harry was living in Grimauld Place and Ron had joined him there. Originally, she had wanted to live with them too. They were reluctant, but agreed to it anyway. Everything was fine except for the fact that they expected Hermione to run the entire household. They came home from work only shortly after her, but they expected dinner to be cooked and ready, the table set and everything to be clean and tidy. When she brought this up with them, they simply shrugged it off.

Hermione's heart had been set on living in a quaint little apartment for some time now. She would fantasise about not needing to clean up after anyone else and being able to decorate her home the way she liked it. But the only problem was she could not afford to rent a place on her own. Her occupation as a medical student at a muggle university was almost finished, but even with her side job of tutoring children, she couldn't afford an apartment.

It was one lucky day that she was going about her search when she found another person interested in the same place as her. Draco Malfoy. They were not keen on the idea of sharing, but seeing as neither could afford it on their own, and both desperately wanted the place, they established some rules and moved in.

And now, here they were, with a little child running around the house, dirtying everything. It had only been 2 days since Oliver had entered their lives, but things were changing, and for the better.

She hung up her coat and put away her bag, checking to see if there was anything she could cook for dinner. But to her surprise, there was already some spaghetti and sauce ready on the stove. She set the table and went back into the living room to wake up the boys.

"Hey Ollie!" she shook him gently. "It's time to get up sweetie. Dinner's ready."

As she spoke to him, Draco stirred, attempting to move his arm to stretch. However, Oliver was leaning on his arm.

"Maybe you should give him a bath before dinner. That way he'll be a little more awake when it comes to eating," Draco suggested, voice still laced with sleep.

"That's a good idea." Hermione wrapped her arms around the boy, about to lift him up, but Draco stopped her.

"You go start the bath. I'll carry him over. I know he's pretty heavy, isn't he?" he smiled. Hermione rushed off to the bathroom. Picking up the sleepy boy, Draco carried him to the bathroom and helped Hermione wake him up. When it came to the actual bathing process though, he thought it better for him to leave the room.

At the dinner table, Oliver was excitedly recounting the fun things he did that day with Draco. He told Hermione about the stick house and Draco's special stick and about how he even helped cook dinner by taste testing. He didn't leave out any details about all the movies they watched that day, and by the end of his first 3 bites, most of Hermione's questions about the state of the house had been answered.

After dinner, came time to tuck Ollie into bed for the night. Draco came out of the shower and found Hermione and Oliver sifting through a pile of children's books she had bought for him.

"Hey, Draco, can you read him his bedtime story? I'm going to take a shower," Hermione asked.

"Fine," Draco grumbled. He had been looking forward to an early night.

After Ollie had picked his story, they entered his bedroom and Draco pulled the blanket over him, covering his head.

"Oh no! Where's Olive gone? I can't see him anywhere!" he feigned fear. A loud giggle and flailing of limbs came from under the blanket.

"I'm right here Draco!" Ollie called.

"I think I just heard his voice! But I can't see him!" Draco continued.

The little boy squealed and poked his head out from the blanket, laughing uncontrollably.

"Oh my goodness! I found him! There you are Olive! You must be a wizard because I swear you just disappeared!" he laughed.

Finally, once they were settled, Draco lay beside him and started reading in the lamplight. His words began too slur as sleep overtook him. No matter how hard he tried to stay awake, nor how many times Ollie poked him and shook him, he drifted off.

Hermione finished getting dressed and opened Oliver's door to check in on him. He was lying in bed, wide awake, looking sad. Beside him, Draco was sleeping peacefully. Silly boy! She had told him to _read _the bedtime story, not actually go to sleep!

"Hermione, Draco is sleeping and he won't read to me anymore," he pouted. Sighing, she lay down on the other side of him and picked up the book, continuing to read. However, her fate was no different to Draco's. Within minutes, she was asleep too, snoring. And the book fell off her stomach and onto the floor.

Oliver tried to wake her up too, but to no avail. Eventually he gave up and went to sleep, happily in the middle of both of them.


	4. Chapter 4 - Cake

**Chapter 4 – Cake**

_Hi! Just a quick warning, there will be some swearing in this chapter, but I used asterixis. Also please tell me if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes since I'm typing this super fast in random bouts of inspiration. _

"Draco!" Oliver whispered loudly. "Draco! Wake up!"

The older boy moaned and shifted a little before going back to sleep.

"Draco! I'm hungry!" he persisted.

"Go back to sleep…" Draco mumbled.

"But I'm hungry!" he repeated.

"What's the time?" Draco asked. Oliver leaned over him and stared at the clock.

"The clock is a straight line," he replied.

Draco cracked open his eyes. From the small amount of light escaping from in between the curtains, he assumed it was around sunrise. Glancing at the clock, he noticed it was only 6 am.

"Go back to sleep Olive," he said, putting his head back on the pillow.

"But I'm hungry!" Ollie said again.

"What do you want to eat?" Draco grumbled, eyes closed.

"Cake!" Ollie replied after a moment's deliberation.

"There's some in the fridge. Go eat it." Draco gladly went back to sleep as the little one scrambled to get out of bed to find his beloved cake.

"Draco Malfoy! What have you done?" Hermione's loud voice boomed around him. He jerked awake, staring right into her infuriated eyes. Sitting up, he looked around, expecting a fire or some sort of disaster.

"What?" he asked groggily.

"Could you please explain to me why we have a sugar-high 4-year-old running around our apartment with his pants on his head?" she put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows. Draco racked his brain, but he could not think of one reason as to why Oliver would be so hyper.

"Did you feed him lollies or candy or something? Or maybe even orange juice, because I read somewhere that it also has a lot of sugar…" he trailed off, realising by the look on his friend's face, that it wasn't the correct answer.

"Oh, and did I mention, he told me you said he could eat cake?" she added sarcastically.

"Sh*t!" Draco swore, tearing the blanket off his torso and rushing out of the bedroom to survey the damage. There was a dirty spoon covered in chocolate icing lying on the hallway floor and loud war-cry coming from the kitchen. Running past the spoon, Draco jogged back to pick it up. He finally reached the source of all the commotion. Oliver.

Running around the dining table in circles, he held a spoon in each hand, both covered in chocolate, as he screamed out random syllables of gibberish. The elastic of his pants were around his head, leaving the rest (the leg parts) to trail behind him like a cape. Needless to mention, he was in his underwear.

Scooping him up, he took him back into the bedroom and placed him on the bed. The little boy began jumping up and down on the mattress, singing incoherent words that made perfect sense to him. Draco was rummaging through all the clothes he could find for some pants for him.

He reached out to hold onto Oliver so he could put the new pair of pants on him, but the boy dodged his hand. Squealing in delight, he continued to jump and dodge Draco who hadn't done so much physical activity in years. Eventually he got tired of it and let Draco put the pants on him.

"Where's Hermione?" he chirped, skipping around the kitchen table while Draco put everything back in its place.

"She's getting ready for work," came the reply.

"Where does she work?" asked Oliver.

"She's a doctor."

"Why?"

"Well," Draco finished up and sat down. "She likes to help people, and this way she can make sick people feel better."

"But why does she like that?"

"I don't know," Draco shrugged. For the majority of his life, he never really spent much time thinking about others, let alone caring about their health and happiness. However, in the last few years, after the war, when he met Hermione again, things had changed. He had found himself worrying about how many late nights she had to work. He found himself concerned about the amount of sleep she was getting, and so on.

The list went on, but Draco would never tell her that he worried about her. She would laugh at him. Instead he showed his concern in a less sweet way. He badgered her about her long hours, complained about how she wasn't pulling her weight enough at home and tried to find excuses to make her spend more time relaxing. Sometimes he realised it made him seem like an idiot, like a selfish person who expected her to stay home and help with the chores as well as work a full time job. But he didn't know how else to make her stay home.

"I'm going now Draco!" Hermione called suddenly. "I should be back by 6, but if I'm not I'll give you a call."

With that she closed the door behind her and the day began.


	5. Chapter 5 - Late

**Chapter 5 – Late**

Draco lay on the couch, reading a book. He was exhausted – and it was only 1 pm! Oliver was having a nap beside him, his head on the older boy's lap. Draco ruffled his sandy-blond hair and sighed. His phone was vibrating in his pocket. He gently replaced his lap with a pillow so Oliver could keep sleeping, answering the phone.

"Hello?"

"Draco! I'm not going to be home until 7 at the earliest!" Hermione's rushed voice came through the phone.

"What? Why?" He was both annoyed and worried. She was working so much! It wasn't healthy for her!

"I'm really sorry! It's just that one of the other doctors is sick and there's no one to cover for him. I need to stay to take care of a few of his patients. I'm really sorry," she apologised.

Draco sighed again. "Well, at least tell me you've eaten something?"

"Um… I'll go buy a sandwich in a minute. I just need you to give Oliver a shower this evening. Is that okay?"

Draco's stomach clenched in nervousness. She _trusted_ him to be able to do something like that? He felt both excited and honoured (and of course nervous).

"I… Yeah, okay." He couldn't bear to disappoint her.

"Thank you so much! I promise I'll make it up to you!" he could almost see her smile on the other side of the line as she hung up in relief.

Getting up, he wandered to the bathroom to check if everything he needed was there.

Towel? Check.

Shampoo? Check.

Lotion? Check.

Soap? Check.

If everything was there, why did he feel like something was missing?

He opened all the bathroom cupboards, searching for a toy of some sort for Oliver to play with. Nothing. Well, Hermione managed to shower him without a toy. Still, Draco felt bad. When he was a child, he would refuse to have a bath unless his favourite rubber duck was with him.

He racked his brain for ideas. _That's it_! Their neighbour Marylin, who lived across the hall, had two girls. They were almost ten now, but maybe – just maybe – she would have some of their old bath toys? He practically ran over to their door, hoping to be back in less than a minute in case Oliver woke up.

"Draco?" Marylin opened the door. "Hi! How are you?"

She was a short lady in her mid-forties. Her husband, Miles (Draco wasn't sure what his name was) was always busy with some business trip or another, but they seemed happy. She worked as a freelance wedding planner, a job Draco had only heard of in books until he met her.

"Marylin, hi. I'm so sorry to impose on you, but I was wondering if you had any old bath toys that belong to the girls? I really need one." Draco only realised how strange it sounded after he spoke.

"What? Why?" The lady was clearly confused.

"Uh… well… it's a long story, but Hermione has adopted a little boy and I need to give him a bath. I'm not really sure how to, so I've gotta get back and well… yeah…" he explained.

She was still really lost as to what he was trying to say. "Hermione adopted a boy?"

"Yeah… now about the toys?" He didn't want to come off as rude or anything, but he wasn't comfortable leaving Oliver alone for long.

"Oh. Yes, just wait there for a second." She disappeared for a moment or two before coming back with a faded-yellow rubber duck. "I'm so sorry Draco, but that's all I've got left."

"That's wonderful! Thank you so much!" He cut her off and ran back to his apartment.

Plopping back down on the couch, he took out his phone and googled the big question:

_How to give a kid a bath_

At 2 pm, Draco got to work on dinner. The sooner he finished it, the more time he would have to give Oliver a bath (lord knows he would need it). He cooked a few sausages frozen in the freezer and used them on a pizza base he had been saving for the weekend. Everyone loved pizza.

Just as he was taking the pizza out of the oven, his phone rang again. Rushing to take the tray out, he burnt his wrist as it touched the oven frame. No gloves could save him from that.

Fumbling for his phone, he checked who was calling him. It was probably Hermione. But no, it was an unknown number. Shrugging, Draco picked up the phone.

"Mr Malfoy? This is Liz from Forbes Legal. We have reviewed your application for the position of a beginner associate and want you to come in for an interview as soon as possible."

Draco's heart began to hammer. After Hogwarts, he had abandoned the Wizarding World in favour of a muggle life. In this muggle life, he had chosen to pursue law, which he had obviously become bored with halfway through the course. Since he had used what was left of his parents' fortune to pay for the university fees however, he had to bore through it. When he finished the course, he decided to never go into anything related to law at all. Instead, he worked at a bookshop 5 days a week from 9 to 5. It wasn't they best job, but it paid enough for him to live in a decent place (until he had saved enough to afford the rent of the new apartment). He quit the job in favour of a job in sales and stayed in that position until he was fired a few weeks ago for being constantly late.

That was when Hermione told him to put his law degree to use. He was very against the idea and told her that nothing would come from it, but in his desperation, he applied anyway. So, here he was, with a potential job.

"Oh, hi Liz. I would be interested in this interview. What time were you thinking?" he hoped he wasn't too casual.

"We would like it as soon as possible, so tomorrow at 8 am. Is that okay, Mr Malfoy?" replied Liz.

That was far too early for his liking, but he was in no place to argue, so he agreed.

Perfect. If all went well, he would be able to pay his rent properly this month (unlike the last).


	6. Chapter 6 - Bath Time

**Chapter 6 – Bath Time**

Draco whistled happily as he filled the tub with warm water. He poured some of the liquid soap into the water and made a layer of foam. Google said that kids loved bubble baths. He made his way to Oliver, who was now playing with his cars and lifted him up from behind. The little boy squealed and giggled, dropping the car in surprise. The little piece of metal hit Draco's toe and he bit the insides of his cheeks, holding back a parade of profanities. Ignoring the pain, he spun the kid upside-down and back around. Oliver was a mess of laughter as the two of them made their way to the bathroom.

The little boy escaped from Draco's arms the moment he put him down, making a run for the door. Draco reached out to grab him, tripped over the leg of the chair that was still in the bathroom, and fell over onto the tiles. He groaned and rested his forehead on the cold floor, at a complete loss of how to get the boy to come willingly. _How could Hermione do it so easily?_

"Draco?" a little voice spoke to him. He looked up. Oliver was standing above him with tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Do you want me to kiss it better? Mummy used to always kiss my sores better."

He crouched down beside Draco and asked him where it hurt. The older boy sat up and shook his head. "I'm fine Ollie. Wait – can I call you that? Ollie?"

"Ooooh! Ollie!" he beamed, forgetting all about 'kissing the sores better'. "It sounds like Olive, but it's shorter!"

"Okay, Ollie, let's get you into the bathtub. I have a surprise for you."

After helping him take his clothes off, Draco put him into the tub where the little boy splashed around excitedly.

"Bubbles!" he squealed. While Draco was picking the shampoo from the pile behind him, Ollie scooped some foam and placed it on top of Draco's blond hair.

"What are you giggling at?" Draco asked, turning back around, a smile on his face.

"N-nothing!" Ollie tried to hide his smile. Shrugging it off, Draco put the shampoo on the boy's head and washed his hair. While Ollie's eyes were closed, he popped the rubber duck into the water.

"Magic!" Ollie screamed when he noticed the yellow duck bobbing up and down in the water. "The duckie! It's here by magic!" Draco's smile faded a little as he remembered the last time he was in the Wizarding World.

3 years ago, shortly before he finished his law degree, the Ministry of Magic wished to speak to him about his involvement in the war. He did not want to go, but if he didn't they would assume he was up to no good and lock him in Azkaban forever.

He apparated into the Ministry a few minutes before his interview. Within seconds, everyone in the room had noticed him, the 'traitor', the 'death eater' – the horrible human being he was. He felt sick to the stomach. Ignoring their judgemental stares, he made his way to the Minister's office.

Draco snapped out of his reverie to the sound of Oliver crying.

"What happened?" he scrambled over to the little boy.

"My e-eyes! Soap! The soap is a meanie!" he cried. Draco's shoulders slumped with relief. He washed the soap out of Ollie's eyes and took him out of the bath into his towel.

"No! Don't leave Mr Duckie! I want to play with him!" he reached as far as he could towards the floating duck.

"Wait-" Draco tried to stop him, but it was too late. Ollie topple over the edge of the bathtub and wet his head in the soapy water again. Draco rolled his eyes. This would take much longer than it he thought.

Finally, when Ollie was all warm and dressed, he continued to run around the apartment with Mr Duckie, talking to himself and his toys. It was only 5 o'clock! Draco couldn't wait for Hermione to come home. At least then would be able to rest and prepare for the interview.

He sat down on the couch with a book.


End file.
